


wu yifan | coming home

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Author: Ai, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8100877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: Kris shows up on his mother's doorstep in tears.





	

Wu Yifan stands in front of his mother’s house in Canada as if he can’t believe he’s actually made it this far without someone catching him and dragging him back to Korea. His fingers tremble as he reaches for the doorbell and he can hardly wait for his mother to come to the door. He watches as she peeks out of the curtain to check who’s calling so late at night and then waits as she hurries to unlock the door.

“Baobei...” he hears her say as she stares up at him, her eyes a mix of happiness and concern. 

“Mom,” he tries to say, but his voice cracks. The lump in his throat grows and tears spring to his eyes before he can stop them.

His mother reaches out and pulls him into her arms and suddenly he’s sobbing uncontrollably. He tries to explain everything but he can’t get the words out, so he just ends up mumbling, “I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_ “ over and over. His mom rubs his back and tries not to cry herself as she replies, “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

They stand there in the doorway for a long time. Finally, Yifan’s tears start to subside. He steps back and wipes his eyes on his shirtsleeve while trying to regulate his breathing. He lets his mother nudge him further into the foyer so the door to finally shut behind him. 

“Baobei,” she tries again. “What happened?”

“I’m leaving EXO” he says. It’s the first time he’s actually said the words aloud, and the tears threaten to come up again. “I can’t-- _hic_ \--take it anymore.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, and he starts crying all over again. “Oh _baby_.” She pulls him into her arms again and rocks him back and forth, crooning softly, “You’re safe now.” He’s nearly a foot taller than she is but at this moment, he seems so fragile in her arms, just like he did when he was a baby.

“I didn’t tell you,” he says between sobs, “because I didn’t want you to worry. But it’s so hard, it’s so horrible.” He starts hyperventilating and it takes a few moments for him to calm down enough to get the words out. He doesn’t know how to explain things to his mother, and he doesn’t know if he even wants her to know about all of the hurts he’s suffered. The lack of sleep and proper food are bad enough, but telling her about being forced to perform while injured, about the racist policies of the company, about the nights where his loneliness felt like it would crush him...

“I can’t go back,” he whispers.

His mother doesn’t reply. She just hugs him tightly and lets him cry for as long as he needs to. She had always known that things weren’t as good as he made them out to be. She had seen it in his face when she watched his interviews and television appearances, seeing something just a bit off in how he would answer a question or interact with one of the other members. A mother just knows.

It’s late, and she knows he must be exhausted from the long-haul flight from Asia. A large part of her wants to march him upstairs and tuck him into bed, insisting that this can all wait until tomorrow, but she knows he’s come a long way to be here with her. So instead, she asks if he’s hungry to which he nods. He follows her into the kitchen as if unwilling to leave her side even for a moment. His behavior reminds her of how he acted when they first moved to Canada: he refused to be apart from her for even a moment for the first weeks as they adapted to a new way of life in an unfamiliar country.

Yifan sits on a stool at the counter and watches as she prepares a pot of broth for soup. His eyes are red from crying and exhaustion, and she can tell he’s lost weight. Her heart breaks into pieces again at the thought of her baby so far away being treated so horribly.

Yifan drinks his soup and lets the warmth spread through his body. His mother brings a blanket and drapes it around his shoulders before perching on the stool next to him. She doesn’t say anything. She just watches as he eats and reaches out to tuck a lock of stray hair behind his ear.

They leave the dishes on the counter and walk together upstairs. She noticed he only has a small suitcase and wonders where the rest of his things are, but she doesn’t ask. Instead, she walks him to his room and hugs him goodnight.

She tries to fall asleep, but sleep doesn’t come. Too many thoughts jumble around in her mind. _What made him come home? What will happen now? Is he going to be okay?_

After tossing and turning for hours, she gets out of bed and tiptoes over to Yifan’s room, the one he’s only used once in the past seven years. She cracks the door open a few inches and peeks in to find him in a fitful sleep. She watches as he shifts from side to side and listens to his irregular breathing. Finally, she steps inside and sits on the edge of the bed. She lays her hand on his arm and starts to sing softly. The song she chooses is one she would sing to him as a baby when she would rock him to sleep.

“You’re safe now,” she whispers. “You’re safe now.”

The days and weeks ahead won’t be easy, but knowing that her son is safe in her arms is enough comfort for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Random ficlet because I constantly have feels about Kris ;A;


End file.
